


leave your longing behind you

by delightfulalot



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightfulalot/pseuds/delightfulalot
Summary: He looks directly at the puppy and asks, very clearly, “Mitch?”The puppy barks.Auston asks again. The puppy barks again.“Oh my god, Mitchell, are you the fucking puppy?” Auston looks up at the ceiling for just a second in disbelief, and then back at the puppy, who’s got one paw on Auston’s foot, looking up at him, tail wagging happily.





	leave your longing behind you

**Author's Note:**

> i did it, i actually managed to write my puppy mitch fic! i've been thinking abt this for ages, i can't believe it's actually done. this is set somewhere in the middle of the 2017-18 season, and auston is still living with his dad and mitch is still living with his mom. also, i started writing this before marleau got signed and then forgot to put him in. sorry, patty!
> 
> here is [a picture of puppy mitch.](https://yt3.ggpht.com/-qGG3gDcc3qM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/8tcTseeDnT8/s900-c-k-no-mo-rj-c0xffffff/photo.jpg)
> 
> thanks as always go to julie, and also to calu, who cheered me on and also read through it and told me how great it was. love y'all <3
> 
> the title is from a line in florence & the machine's "dog days are over," bc i couldn't find a good one in "puppy love."

Auston is pretty sure something is up when he wakes up to his alarm for once, instead of Mitch texting him _wake up!!!_ fifteen times in a row.

 

He _knows_ something is up when he wakes up to his alarm again after pressing snooze, instead of Mitch catapulting from the door of Auston’s room to his bed and landing right on his spleen.

 

Auston texts Mitch _u coming?_ and then gets ready slowly, dawdling as much as he dares and keeping one hand and eye on his phone at all times. When it’s finally time for Auston to either drive himself to practice or run late and risk the wrath of Babs, he sucks it up and gets in his car.

 

“Where’s your partner in crime?” Marty asks when Auston walks in the locker room. Auston shrugs.

 

“Trouble in paradise?” Mo asks, and when Auston turns around to glare at him, he just waggles his eyebrows.

 

“No,” Auston says, and then sighs. “I don’t know. He’s not answering my texts.”

 

“Did you try actually calling him?” Bozie asks, and Mo groans and throws a ball of tape at him.

 

“Nobody calls anyone anymore, old man.”

 

“Who you calling old?” Bozie yells, faux-outraged, and then he and Mo pretend-fight. Auston ignores them, pulling his practice gear on quicker than usual -- he’s not outright late, but he’s damn close to it -- and mulls over Bozie’s question. It’s not a bad idea, he guesses, and when he’s dressed he reaches for his phone in his stall, deciding to call Mitch if he still hasn’t gotten a text back.

 

No texts, but no time to call Mitch either, as almost everyone’s already gone to practice. Zach stops at the door, raises his eyebrows at Auston.

 

“You coming?”

 

Auston checks his phone one last time and sighs again. “Yeah,” he says, following Zach out.

 

Mitch isn’t on the ice, either, and Auston is starting to get legitimately worried. He’d thought, maybe, he’d done something to piss Mitch off, and he was ignoring Auston for some reason, but seriously _no one_ knows where he is -- Babs tilts his head at Auston when he gets on the ice, asks, “Marner?” and Auston can only shrug again.

 

He’s off-kilter through the whole practice, obviously not playing up to snuff, but no one says anything to him after, and Auston just showers and changes as quickly as he can and drives straight to Mitch’s place.

 

Mitch doesn’t answer any of the roughly thousand calls Auston makes on the way over, and neither he nor his mom answer the door even while Auston is both knocking _and_ ringing the bell, so Auston gets the spare key from under the mat and lets himself into the house.

 

“Mitch?” he calls as he opens the door. There’s a small noise from the direction of Mitch’s room that sounds like a -- like a _bark_? That can’t be right. “Mrs. Marner?” he continues, slowly making his way through the entryway, expecting to see Mitch passed out on the couch in the living room, a note from his mom stuck to his head, like that one time he forgot Auston was coming over and his mom had stepped out to get groceries while he was napping.

 

No such luck, though -- the living room is empty, blankets folded neatly over the back of the couch.

 

“Shit,” Auston says quietly, and that’s when he hears it again -- a little snuffling, maybe scratching on the floor coming from Mitch’s room. He’s half convinced that Mitch is pulling some giant prank on him, trying to scare him with ghost noises or whatever, probably in response to the stoic way Auston had reacted to the scary movie they’d watched on the plane on the way home from their last roadie, Mitch cursing and angling closer to Auston with every jump scare.

 

And, okay. Auston’s never been afraid of scary movies, but he’s also never been immune to the effects scary movies can have on people he wants to date. Not that he wants to date Mitch! He’s just taken his fair share of people to scary movies to have them cuddle up next to him, and Auston was pretty sure that was going to be the outcome of their movie night when he suggested they watch _Annabelle_ , and he wasn’t necessarily opposed to that outcome.

 

(Also...yeah. He kinda wants to date Mitch.)

 

“Mitch?” Auston calls again, slightly louder than before, in the direction of Mitch’s room. And that is _definitely_ a bark, a high-pitched “yip!” that just barely precedes a very white, very fluffy, ball of energy that comes shooting into the room, nails scratching on the hardwood floor. The puppy tries to pull off what looks like a hockey stop in front of Auston but fails miserably, careening into his legs and falling over onto its back.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Auston says, smiling and kneeling down to pet the puppy, who seems to smile at him in response. It’s white all over, besides its soft pink puppy belly, with bright blue eyes and also -- yeah, definitely a boy.

 

“Good boy,” Auston says softly, and then, “Where’s your owner? Where’s Mitch?”

 

The puppy barks at Mitch’s name, and Auston scratches behind his ear. “Let’s go find him,” he says, and stands up. The puppy barks again and follows along as Auston makes his way towards the bedrooms.

 

Mitch’s mom’s room is empty, the door halfway open to show the bed neatly made. Auston pushes the door just enough to swing it a little further into the room, and he calls “Mrs. Marner?” again, even though he’s pretty sure she’s not there.

 

Mitch’s door is also open, his room the organized chaos Auston is getting used to. His bed’s not made, which means Mitch has been in it since his mom has seen it -- not that she makes his bed, but that she always insists on Mitch making it, and he’s a dutiful enough son that he always does it for her. The floor is mostly clean, piles of laundry notwithstanding, but the main thing it has in common with Mitch’s mom’s room is that it also seems to be devoid of Marners.

 

Auston looks down at the puppy, who’d followed him into the room and barked every time he’d called for Mitch. “What now, man?” he asks. The puppy, who up until now has been panting with his tongue out while following Auston around, just closes his mouth and sits there, looking up at Auston.

 

Auston spends about ten seconds just staring back.

 

And then he realizes _he’s just staring at a puppy_ , and he runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Okay,” he says, more to himself than the dog -- and that’s another thing, he’s _talking to a dog._ He gets a hold of himself and heads back to the kitchen, because he knows sometimes Mitch and his mom write notes to each other there, and maybe he can find something out.

 

There’s a list on the counter of how to cook the apparently numerous casseroles Mrs. Marner has prepared in advance for her son -- and Auston gets a little flash of jealousy, because when his dad goes out of town he usually just survives on a diet of take-out that is decidedly _not_ nutritionist approved, but he also lived with his mom and her tortilla soup all season two years ago, so he guesses it’s kinda fair.

 

At the bottom of the list is a return flight, dated well over a week into the future, after the Leafs get back from their next road trip, and that’s when Auston remembers Mitch telling him about the cruise his dad bought his mom for Christmas.

 

“Are you gonna have a party?” Auston had asked, mostly into his coffee, half asleep in Mitch’s passenger seat.

 

“Of course,” Mitch had said, grinning. “Gotta throw a party when the ‘rents are out of town, right?”

 

“ _‘Rents_?” Auston had asked incredulously, cracking up, and he’d pretty much forgotten about it after that, too busy chirping Mitch.

 

Mitch had said something about it again on the way home from practice, though it’d mainly been an open invitation to Auston to come over and play Call of Duty so Mitch could chirp him for how bad he was, and probably a few beers and drunk cookies, Mitch being weirdly good at baking cookies while drunk.

 

“Jesus, Marns, where _are_ you?” Auston asks now, into the empty silence of the apartment.

 

At his feet, the puppy barks.

 

And Auston realizes something.

 

He looks directly at the puppy and asks, very clearly, “Mitch?”

 

The puppy barks.

 

Auston asks again. The puppy barks again.

 

“Oh my god, Mitchell, are you the fucking puppy?” Auston looks up at the ceiling for just a second in disbelief, and then back at the puppy, who’s got one paw on Auston’s foot, looking up at him, tail wagging happily.

 

“You’re the fucking puppy, aren’t you?” he asks again, and the puppy -- _Mitch_ , shit fuck goddammit -- barks, his tail hitting the floor with happier force.

 

“I guess you’re coming home with me,” Auston sighs, and Mitch barks again and, when Auston leans down to pick him up, licks his face. “Jesus Christ, Marns,” Auston mutters, looking around for a leash and thanking whatever higher power there is that dogs probably can’t tell when people are blushing, his cheeks burning. It takes longer than Auston will admit later for him to realize that there’s no leash because it’s not like the Marners have a puppy, Mitch has just...somehow turned into one today.

 

“You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?” Auston asks, and Mitch just barks happily. Auston fights a smile for a second, before realizing no one’s around to see how stupidly fond he looks at his best friend as a puppy. “A lot of trouble,” he says again anyway, and then he leaves Mitch’s place, locking the door behind him.

 

-

 

He gets recognized by the girl at the pet store. Because of course he does.

 

It wouldn’t be that big of a deal -- he’s been signing autographs for waiters and cashiers for over a year now -- except that the girl grins at Mitch first, bending down to pet him, and it’s only after she looks up to ask for the dog’s name that she recognizes Auston.

 

“It’s, um. It’s Mitch,” he says, and the girl raises her eyebrows at him. “I didn’t name him,” he can’t help but blurt out. “It’s Marner’s puppy, he -- he named him after himself, apparently.”

 

She laughs. “Makes sense, I guess. He’s a good dog.” She scratches Mitch’s head, and he leans into her hand for more, tail wagging. She laughs again, delighted, and Mitch jumps up enough to lick her cheek.

 

“Stop _flirting_ , let her work,” Auston says, leaning down to pull Mitch away. That’s when Mitch leans into him instead, and Auston looks at the girl, his cheeks heating up, like _what can you do?_ She laughs.

 

“Let’s get you set up to take care of this little guy,” she says, standing up. “What do you need?”

 

He shrugs. “Everything, I think. Like, food and a leash and do puppies need, like, a special bed?”

 

“Oh, boy,” she says. “Follow me.”

 

They get stopped a few more times as Auston follows this girl around the pet store, Mitch padding happily along next to him. He can’t seem to help himself when he sees anyone, let alone cute girls, and by the time Auston has carried his armful of stuff to the cash register, he’s pretty sure Mitch has been petted by everyone in the whole store.

 

“New puppy?” the cashier asks, and Auston just nods wearily as Mitch stands on his hind legs to try to reach the counter where he can get more pets. Auston pushes him down and says a quick, “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” the cashier says, laughing. “Happens all the time. He’s just social, aren’t ya, boy?” The cashier leans over the counter, cooing the last words at Mitch, and Mitch barks and wags his tail.

 

“He is pretty cute,” Auston says, smiling down at Mitch, who looks at Auston and tilts his head. Auston reaches down to pet him quickly, before paying for all his stuff and carrying it all out to his car, Mitch gamboling along behind him the whole way.

 

-

 

“Welcome home, I guess,” Auston says as he unlocks his front door and lets himself and Mitch into his condo.

 

Mitch barks happily and takes off for the living room. Auston sighs and takes off after him, arms weighed down with all his packages, until he drops them all in a pile next to the couch, where Mitch has already curled up in what he always calls “his spot,” head on his front paws.

 

Auston’s dad, sitting next to Mitch, looks down at him and then up at Auston. “What,” is all he says, and Auston groans and throws himself into the armchair next to the couch.

 

“Mitch,” he starts, and Brian nods.

 

“Ah. Say no more,” he says, turning back to the TV.

 

“He should be out of here soon.”

 

“As long as there are no accidents,” Brian says, and Auston is suddenly desperately grateful to have a dad as unflappable as his.

 

“I promise,” he says, looking at Mitch, who looks up at him in a way so reminiscent of Mitch the person that he gets a weird pang in his chest of, like, missing him, or something.

 

Auston is saved from having to think about that too deeply by his phone vibrating at him with a text from Marty.

 

_have you talked to mitch yet? he’s not answering me._

 

Shit. Auston forgot to grab Mitch’s phone, which he could’ve used to at least text people back, maybe lie that Mitch had laryngitis or something and was laid up but couldn’t talk to anyone. And then he’s struck with a better idea, and before he can think better about it he snaps a pic of Mitch and sends it to Marty.

 

 _???? cute dog but whats this got to do w/marns_ , is what he gets back.

 

 _that IS marns_ , he sends, and there’s a long enough pause that Auston is worried Marty has decided to call the authorities, or something, because who really thinks that their teammate has turned into a puppy? But then his phone buzzes again, and Marty’s uploaded a screenshot of their conversation to the Leafs group chat. There’s a beat, and then the responses flow in fast, practically all at the same time.

 

 **hyman:** wtf man  
**carrick:** is that really mitchy????  
**bozie:** what did bonnie say  
**auston:** she’s out of town, i haven’t talked 2 her  
**jvr:** i think i heard about this happening in jrs once  
**leo:** i’ve seen it happen a few times. not always a dog, but not uncommon  
**hyman:** WTF!!!!  
**brownie:** has anyone talked to mcdavid or strome, see if this has happened before?  
**auston:** i don’t have their #s  
**mo:** i’ve got davo’s, i’ll hit him up  
**auston:** oh right me too, from world cup. no don’t, i’ll text him

 

Auston puts the picture in a new message, captions it _i think this is marns? have u ever seen this before?_ and sends it off to McDavid and then, after a minute, to Chucky, too. He was actually linemates with Mitch, for a full season, and Auston feels dumb for not thinking about asking them sooner. His phone hasn’t stopped buzzing in a few minutes, and when he switches back to the group chat it’s still just as hopping as before.

 

 **hyman:** is this really a thing that happens. like. regularly  
**gards:** i think i’ve heard about it a few times but just from friends of friends  
**naz:** that sounds sketch  
**leo:** i’ve seen it more than once  
**freddie:** me too  
**willy:** i think backe turned into an eagle for a weekend once  
**hyman:** w  
**hyman:** t  
**mo:** #fakenews  
**hyman:**  f  
**jvr:** i thought it mostly happened in jrs. something abt hormones or something  
**marty:** no wonder it happened to mitchy then  
**auston:** willy do you rmr what happened? how did they turn him back?  
**willy:** idk dude, dad didn’t go into details  
**leo:** usually it goes away on its own i think  
**auston:** it better. we’ve got a road trip in 2 days!

 

Auston drags his hands down his face and groans. Brian raises an eyebrow at him. Mitch looks over at him and lets out a small _yip_.

 

“You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?” Auston asks the dog, and he would swear to god that Mitch actually _looks smug_. Brian chuckles and puts a head on Mitch’s head, looking back at the TV.

 

Chucky’s texted _too early for april fools!_ when Auston looks back at his phone, and then _wanna skype later?_ which means he hasn’t picked up lately, and he wants to take advantage of their friends-with-benefits long distance thing they do sometimes. Normally Auston’s always down for it -- Chucky is weirdly good at dirty talk -- but he’s too distracted, especially with Mitch looking at him from the couch.

 

 _not tonight, sorry_ , he sends, and Chucky says _no worries_ and then something about his last game, but Auston’s distracted by the notification that McDavid’s texted him back.

 

_I don’t think it’s happened to Mitch before, but Dylan turned into an otter a few years ago._

 

_really, man??? how’d u turn him back???_

 

There’s barely a pause before Auston’s phone rings in his hand.

 

“Davo, hey,” he answers, looking at Mitch, whose head pops up at Connor’s name. Auston gestures towards his room with his head, and Mitch hops down from the couch and leads Auston to his bedroom.

 

“Are you alone?” Connor asks, and Auston slides his bedroom door closed and sits on his bed.

 

“Yeah, it’s just me and Mitch in my room.” Mitch jumps up onto the bed next to Auston and walks in a small circle before settling down, his entire tiny body pressed to Auston’s leg. It’s weirdly nice, and Auston can’t help but bury a hand in his fur.

 

“Good,” Connor says, exhaling loudly. “Sorry for being weird, but like. I don’t really wanna tell too many people about this.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Auston says. “I mean, I told the team, but not my dad or anything.”

 

“And Mitch’s mom?”

 

“She’s on a cruise for the next couple weeks.”

 

“Okay, good. Yeah, anyway, like I said, Dylan turned into an otter a few years ago, while we were both playing for Erie.”

 

Auston lets out a short laugh. “I guess it’s lucky Marns didn’t turn into a fucking leaf then.”

 

Connor laughs too, and then says, “Or Carlton.”

 

Auston pauses. “Shit, I didn’t even think about that.”

 

“Yeah, at least he’s not a polar bear. And I mean, judging from the picture he still looks like he’d be at home in a Leafs jersey.”

 

“He’s always at home in a Leafs jersey,” Auston says softly, looking down at Mitch’s head on his thigh, and nobody says anything for a minute, until Connor clears his throat quietly.

 

“And how’d you change Strome back?” Auston asks, coming back to himself, and Connor says, “He kinda did it himself, after a few days.”

 

Auston groans. “Not helpful, man.”

 

“Well.” Connor’s voice is even softer than normal, and Auston practically has to strain to hear him. “It wasn’t _all_ on his own.”

 

“What the fuck does _that_ mean?”

 

There’s a pause, and then Connor says, “I took care of him while he was an otter, kept him with me and kept him happy and all that. He came to the rink for practice, and slid around on the ice, and then I took him back home with me and he slept on my pillow and we did that for a few days and then I, um -- and then, just like that, he was Dylan the person again.”

 

“Did he miss any games?” Auston asks, when it seems like Connor isn’t going to explain what he _meant_ when he tripped over his words.

 

“Yeah, a couple. They said it was an undisclosed injury and listed him day-to-day.”

 

“You told your coach?”

 

“I had to, man.”

 

Auston huffs out a breath. “Yeah, makes sense. Just a couple games, huh? I guess that’s not so bad,” he says, scratching behind Mitch’s ears. Mitch’s tail starts thumping the bed and Auston can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face.

 

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Connor says.

 

“Nah, you’re good. Thanks for calling.”

 

“Yeah, sure. Keep me posted, huh?”

 

“You got it,” Auston says, and then hangs up. “That was slightly helpful,” he says to Mitch, who lets out a small bark, and then shoves his head into Auston’s hand again. Auston laughs and starts petting him again.

 

“A lot of trouble, Marns,” he says. Mitch just clambers up, both front paws on Auston’s thigh, and licks his face. Auston laughs.

 

-

 

“I guess you’re sleeping on my pillow tonight,” Auston says when he’s getting ready for bed. Mitch is already sitting on his bed, and he wags his tail and makes his way onto Auston’s pillow, looking incredibly proud of himself.

 

“Good job, Marns,” Auston says, rolling his eyes, and then he takes his pajamas into the bathroom with him while he brushes his teeth. Not for any real reason, but like -- okay. He feels a little weird about undressing in front of Mitch as a dog, just like he’d feel weird about undressing in front of Mitch the person in a non-locker room capacity. So it’s normal, okay? Mitch might be a dog, but he’s still _Mitch_.

 

Sort of.

 

Auston’s head hurts.

 

When he gets back into his room, Mitch has curled into a little fluffy ball, and Auston takes a second to look at him. He’s really cute -- all dogs are cute, but Mitch seems particularly cute as a dog -- but also, Auston misses Mitch the person, a truly absurd amount for someone who’s only been physically gone for less than a day.

 

He misses his dumb jokes, though. They sometimes send each other dumb fucking memes while they’re lying in bed, ostensibly trying to sleep but really checking the internet. And Mitch’s laugh, a big thing that takes over his whole face and body. Auston really likes that, and he just misses it a little, okay?

 

Mitch doesn’t really move when Auston gets into bed, but when Auston’s settled down, Mitch moves enough to lick his cheek, just once. It’s kinda gross -- he’s already got dog breath.

 

Auston still sleeps really well that night.

 

-

 

 _are you bringing mitchy to morning skate?_ Marty texts Auston in the morning, before Auston’s even awake or has thought about morning skate, let alone bringing a _dog_ to it.

 

But he’s gonna have to talk to Babs about Mitch anyway, unless --

 

He rolls over to check if Mitch has changed back overnight, and a sleepy puppy looks back at him.

 

 _yeah,_ Auston sends back.

 

Mo meets him in the parking garage, looking determined and captainly. “Are you gonna talk to Babs?” he asks through the car window before Auston’s even turned his car off.

 

“Was planning on it,” Auston says, hopping out and heading over to the passenger side door to let Mitch out too.

 

Mo’s opened his mouth like he’s gonna say something else, but the sight of the fluffy puppy falling all over himself to excitedly lick his feet has apparently struck him dumb.

 

“Mitch, c’mon, get down,” Auston says after what seems like a really fucking long time for him to be trying to jump on Mo.

 

The sound of Mitch’s name snaps Mo out of it, and he stops looking at Mitch to look at Auston. “It’s really real, huh?”

 

Auston sighs. “Yup. Mitch is a dog now.”

 

Mo nods down at Mitch. “Really fluffy and annoying, too. Sounds about right.”

 

Mitch pulls back from jumping on Mo and sits in front of him. He barks, and it sounds disapproving. Mo looks at him, dumbfounded, and Auston laughs.

 

“He’s still Mitch, Mo,” Auston says, and Mo nods.

 

“He really is, isn’t he?” He seems to be lost in thought for a few seconds, looking at Marns, and then he shakes his head and looks back at Auston. “Let’s go see Babs, huh?”

 

It takes them a few minutes to find Babs -- he’s not in his office, not this close to skate -- but they track him down on his way out to the ice. They’re probably a sight, Auston thinks, the two of them still in their street clothes, Mitch trailing along behind them, tail wagging and tongue out, and Babs frowns at them but nods when they ask to speak to him privately and leads them back to his office.

 

When he’s settled at his desk, he raises his eyebrows at the two of them and the puppy before they’ve even gotten a chance to sit down, and Auston blurts it out.

 

“Mitch turned into a puppy yesterday,” he says. Mitch, as he’s done most of the time Auston has said his name, barks, and then he settles down, looking directly at Babs, and seems to smile.

 

Babs sighs. “Of course he did,” he mutters, and then he’s texting someone and using his office phone to call someone else, and Auston and Mo stand there awkwardly while he seemingly carries on two conversations at once.

 

“We’ve got a problem with Marner,” Babs says into the phone, typing something into his cell at the same time. “A code blue, I think we decided to call it. It’s been a day already, so possibly we can get away with a flat LBI statement to the press and have him back for the road trip.”

 

Mo catches Auston’s eye and raises his eyebrows. Auston’s not sure what he’s asking so he just shrugs, and then he feels a small pressure on his foot and he looks down. Mitch has curled up on the floor between his feet, his head pillowed on Auston’s right foot, and Auston has this unbearable rush of fondness and, embarrassingly, feels tears pinprick at the back of his eyes. Which. Is kind of out of the ordinary.

 

Not the fondness thing, because Auston is always feeling unbearably fond of Mitch, pretty much no matter what Mitch happens to be doing at the time. It’s dumb, and annoying, but Auston has started to finally live with it, after quite a few months dealing with it.

 

No, it’s the almost-crying thing that’s new, and Auston squats down so he can pet Mitch’s back and maybe surreptitiously wipe his eyes at the same time. He’s not sure what that’s about but he thinks it might have to do with the fact that he desperately misses his best friend.

 

When he stands back up, Mo gives him a look, almost like he’s worried about him, but Auston ignores it. He can’t deal with that right now. He’s gotta focus on doing whatever they can with Mitch first.

 

“Yes, sir,” Babs is saying into the phone, his cell quiet on the table, and Auston realizes with a jolt that he’s most likely talking to Lou. He looks over at Mo. Mo’s looking right back at him, eyebrows raised, and mouths _Lou?_ Auston shrugs and nods. Mo shakes his head and they both look at Babs, who is -- off his phone and looking both at them with a slightly amused look on his face.

 

Oops.

 

“What’s the plan, sir?” Mo asks, breezing right over whatever awkwardness they may have, and there’s another rush of Auston being grateful that Mo’s around to take charge.

 

There’s a nudge against his leg and Auston looks down to see Mitch leaning against him again, looking up with his big blue Mitch eyes. Auston reaches down to pet him quickly, and then tunes back into the conversation.

 

“Officially Marner has an undisclosed lower-body injury. We’re listing him day-to-day. We don’t have any experience with this --” he pauses for a minute and waves a hand at Mitch, as if words don’t really encompass the whole thing, and Auston very seriously gets that. Babs continues, “How to change the, uh, problem, as an organization, so we’re just going to -- we’re just going to have you keep doing, uh, whatever you’ve been doing.”

 

“Can he -- can he come to the locker room, and practice?” Auston asks. Babs sighs.

 

“Maybe keep him off the ice during drills,” he says, crossing his arms and giving them his best _Coach_ look, and finishes, “but he can sit on the bench.”

 

Mitch barks happily, and Babs directs his look at the puppy. “As long as he’s quiet.”

 

Mitch, who’d been panting with his mouth open, closes it and looks as innocent as possible. Auston can’t help but laugh at him.

 

“We’ll keep him quiet, sir,” Mo says, and then Babs tells them to get dressed and they head to the locker room.

 

There’s a roar of approval when they show up, mainly led by Marty, it looks like, and Mitch pulls his leash out of Auston’s hand and rushes towards Marty, licking all over his face. Auston lets him go and pulls on his gear, letting the noise from everyone cooing over Mitch wash over him. It means the room is as loud as it normally is, but it’s a lot more “guys being saps about a cute puppy” than it is “guys shooting the shit.”

 

“You holding up?” someone asks quietly from right next to him, and Auston glances over to see Zach looking at him, concerned.

 

Auston shrugs. “Not too bad,” he says. “It’s a little weird, but Mitch is pretty cute as a dog.”

 

Zach glances over to where Mitch is on his back in front of Bozie and JVR, trying to get them to pet him. They’re both doubled over laughing instead. “He is,” Zach says, but then he turns back to Auston and goes, “but I was asking if you missed the real guy.”

 

Auston sighs and watches as Mitch rolls over and jumps up to slobber all over Willy’s feet. “Yeah, I do,” he says quietly.

 

Zach just says, “Yeah,” and claps him on the shoulder for a second before letting Auston finish getting dressed.

 

He takes a moment, first, to rub his hands down his face and groan quietly.

 

-

 

Mitch stays on the bench during morning skate, keeping guard over their water bottles and barking when someone scores a particularly good goal. Auston maybe skates over to get water more often than he normally would, especially during drills, but in his defense, everyone else is doing it too, making sure to linger just long enough to pat Mitch on the head.

 

Also. Auston misses the way Mitch likes to skate over and press their shoulders together between drills, telling him stupid jokes or singing snippets of whatever particularly heinous song had been on the radio that morning to make Auston groan.

 

But mostly everyone can’t stop marveling over how cute Mitch the puppy is, so Babs calls it a lot earlier than he normally would, especially after everyone has been so distracted. Most of the guys stay on the ice, waiting for the coaches and training staff to head off, and then when it’s mostly players, Freddie swings the bench door open and Mitch comes bounding out onto the ice.

 

He slips almost immediately and tumbles over, ending up on his back, a seemingly shocked expression on his tiny face. And then he wriggles up and instead of trying to run very far, lets himself sliiiiiide across the ice until he gently bumps into the boards. He ends up next to Auston, who looks down at him only to see him looking back up, tongue lolling out of his mouth, seemingly grinning, as if to say, _Look what fun I can have_.

 

Auston grins back at him, and then someone on the other side of the ice whistles and yells for Mitch to fetch, tossing a puck all the way down past the goal. Mitch takes off after it, slipping and sliding the whole way. He can’t get the thing in his mouth, so he’s just kind of kicking it around, and that’s when someone else yells, tossing another puck the opposite way, and they kill about fifteen minutes making Mitch run back and forth.

 

“Getting in a full two hundred foot game, huh Mitchy?” Marty calls to him, and Mitch barks at him and takes off the other way while everyone else laughs.

 

Mitch tires out eventually, though, and slides his way back over to Auston, where he lets himself fall onto his back, tongue out of his mouth, and looks up. Auston looks back down at him.

 

“Ready to go home, boy?” he asks, and Mitch lets out a single, pathetic yip, and rolls over onto Auston’s feet. “Careful of the skates,” Auston yelps, but then he sets his stick down and leans down to scoop Mitch off the ice.

 

Mitch the puppy is just as cuddly as Mitch the person, so obviously he nuzzles his head against Auston’s chin, his tail hitting Auston in the chest.

 

“Obnoxious,” Auston says quietly, but even he thinks the fondness in his voice is embarrassing, so he just starts skating off the ice, yelling at Willy to pick up his stick and bring it back. Willy yells back at him -- something about Auston being a lazy ass, he’s not really paying attention -- but he’s skating over toward Auston’s stick anyway, so Auston ignores him and heads for the locker room.

 

He doesn’t put Mitch down until he’s in front of his stall, and Mitch licks his face and then his hand and then runs off to bug some of the other guys.

 

“You gonna come take a shower with us?” Auston hears Marty ask in that high-pitched voice he uses with his own dog, and so he groans and balls up his sock tape to toss it in that direction.

 

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Auston says. “I don’t want my car smelling like wet dog.”

 

“I didn’t wanna say anything,” Brownie says from next to him, “but now that you mention it --”

 

Auston groans again and, lacking any stick tape this time, just shoves him. “Shut the fuck up. Mitch smells fine.”

 

“We know _you_ think that,” JVR says.

 

“You _always_ think that,” Mo says, with that goddamn smirk on his face, and Auston can’t exchange exasperated glances with Mitch until Mitch makes a joke or bugs somebody else so that everyone’s not staring at Auston because _Mitch is a goddamn puppy_ , so Auston just sighs really loudly and keeps taking his gear off, hoping his head is low enough that no one can catch his blush.

 

It’s only about a minute before Mitch trots back over to him, headbutting Auston’s shin and then falling to the floor in front of him. It’s a pretty normal thing for a dog to do, Auston thinks, but he’s also pretty sure that’s _his_ Mitch coming over to comfort him, so he rubs Mitch’s belly real quick and ducks his head even more to smile.

 

When he’s done taking his gear off and stands up to head for the shower, he somehow catches Zach’s eye. Zach’s got his nice, concerned face on, and he just smiles at Auston in a way that he interprets as _call me if you wanna talk_. Auston nods to say _I appreciate that_ , and Zach just smiles back before slapping Willy on the back and heading out.

 

When Auston’s out of the shower and ready to go he finds Marty tossing a ball of stick tape around the locker room for Mitch, who’s apparently caught his second wind.

 

“Don’t get him all riled up,” Auston says, groaning. “I don’t wanna deal with a hyped up puppy Mitch Marner while I need to be napping.” Marty grins at him and tosses the ball for Mitch again, who barks and tears off after it.

 

“You know, we can take him for the day, if you want,” Marty says. “I bet Syd’d love to have him. Jax, too.”

 

And -- Auston doesn’t want to have to try to get a fucking puppy to calm down, not when he’s already tense and tired from the whole damn situation, but he also doesn’t want to, like, let Mitch out of his sight, really.

 

“Nah,” he says easily. “I’ve got him.”

 

“You sure?” Marty asks.

 

“Yeah,” Auston says. “He may be a pain in the ass, but he’s _my_ pain in the ass.”

 

Marty grins at him, that same grin everyone gets when they tease Auston and Mitch and -- yeah, okay, he can hear it there.

 

“Don’t even say it,” Auston says, because that’s seriously too easy, and Marty just holds up his hands like he wasn’t even thinking it, but his grin gets wider. Auston punches his shoulder, hard, and then leashes Mitch up. “Let’s get outta here,” he says to the puppy, and Mitch takes off down the hallway just this side of too fast. Marty yells something after them, but Auston doesn’t quite catch it -- he knows what it probably is, anyway.

  
-

 

When they get back, Mitch runs around Auston’s apartment, barking so loudly Auston’s almost entirely sure someone’s going to come knock on his door, tell them to keep it quiet. Auston lets him do it, though, for close to ten minutes, before even _he_ can’t handle it anymore.

 

“Okay, cut it out,” he says, trying to not let the grin he can feel coming spread across his face, and Mitch barks one last time and collapses into a puddle exactly where he’s standing, like a puppet whose strings just got cut. Auston can’t help it then, and laughs out loud. Mitch pops his head up from the pile of white fluff, tongue hanging out and looking like he’s grinning. Auston plops down onto the floor next to him, criss-cross-applesauce, and scratches under Mitch’s chin. Mitch leans his head forward so Auston can get a better angle and then, when Auston pauses, Mitch clambers into his lap.

 

“Ow, jesus christ, how are your feet this pointy?” Auston complains as Mitch tries to circle around Auston’s lap like he does on Auston’s pillow. Once he’s satisfied, most of his little body is on the floor between Auston’s legs, his head and a front paw on Auston’s crossed legs. He sighs, one of those deep all body sighs that dogs do, like a life of running around all the time is that hard.

 

“Tough day, buddy?” Auston asks, burying one hand in the fur on Mitch’s body. He’s not petting or scratching, it’s more like he’s just -- holding on. Mitch sighs again and closes his eyes. Auston checks his phone; he’s got enough time before he needs to nap that he can just sit here for a while, so he leans back against the couch and reaches for the remote on the coffee table with his free hand, trying his hardest not to dislodge Mitch in any way.

 

They stay like that until it’s time for Auston’s nap, and Mitch follows along behind him and sleeps on Auston’s pillow, after giving him a sleepy lick across his cheek.

 

Auston wakes up rested, but also Mitch has gotten so close to him during the short time they’ve been asleep that Auston has to cough out some dog hair.

 

“Gross, man,” Auston says, lightly shoving Mitch away from him.

 

“Yip!” Mitch says back. Auston has to fight back a grin.

 

“Ridiculous,” he says fondly, rolling out of bed. He gets ready to go, Mitch following along with him the whole time (Auston shuts him out of the bathroom when he changes into his suit, though), and when it’s time to leave, Mitch keeps following Auston to the door, even as Auston bypasses his leash.

 

“No, you gotta stay here, buddy,” he says. Mitch looks at him like he’s confused, and then he pulls the leash off the coffee table with his mouth and drags it over to Auston, looking hopeful.

 

“Not tonight, Mitch,” Auston says. He tries to say it firmly, like he’s seen other people do with their dogs -- but this isn’t a _dog_ , it’s _Mitch_ , which might be making it even harder -- he’s gotta understand that he can’t watch the game from behind the bench, right?

 

“Everyone agrees: no dogs in the ACC.”

 

Mitch drops the leash from his mouth so he can bark, loud and angry. Auston holds his hands up like _nothing I can do_ and thanks anyone who’s listening that his dad’s out of the house.

 

“I gotta go or I’m gonna be late. Don’t be mad at me. Look, do you -- do you want the game on the TV?” Auston turns the TV on and to the right channel. Pregame hasn’t started yet, but it will soon, and Auston needs to _go_.

 

“I’m sorry, Marns, I really am,” Auston says as he edges out of the door, keeping a barking Mitch back with one leg. Mitch goes really crazy when the door closes, barking louder and angrier and Auston feels like a piece of shit as he heads to his car but, really -- what else could he do?

 

-

 

The game isn’t great -- they’re missing Mitch, on the ice and the bench, and Auston feels off-center sitting there without Mitch’s shoulder pressing up against him while he sings whatever song is playing under his breath. It’s always annoying when it’s happening, never fails to be, but Auston misses it more than he thought.

 

They lose 4-2 and Freddie’s the only reason it isn’t a complete blowout. They’re all kinda dejected while taking off their gear, and Babs can’t even find it in him to yell for longer than a couple minutes. He reminds them of practice in the morning before they fly out for their roadie and tells everyone to “get some sleep, be better tomorrow.”

 

Auston just nods, keeping his gaze down, and tries to get out of the building without looking at anyone. He almost makes it, too, but then someone steps on the back of his shoe on their way to the parking garage.

 

“What the fuck?” Auston asks tiredly, turning around.

 

“You doing okay, buddy?” Mo asks, smiling at him. Auston sighs and turns back around, knows that Mo is gonna follow him.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, and even he doesn’t believe it, so he doesn’t blame Mo for _tsk_ -ing at him like a grandma and softly punching his shoulder.

 

“We’ll figure it out.”

 

“Yeah,” is all Auston can say, quiet and sadder than he’d realized. Mo’s quiet for a few steps too, and then he perks up.

 

“Hey. You bringing the puppy on the plane?”

 

“I guess?” Auston says. “That way if he comes back between games we can just slot him back in, or whatever.”

 

“Is Mitch a _good_ dog?” Mo asks, and Auston has to stop and look at him.

 

“What the hell does that mean?”

 

Mo sighs. “Like, I don’t know. I know you didn’t leave him home for skate this morning, but he hasn’t, like, pissed all over your place or whatever, right?”

 

Auston just stares at Mo.

 

“I’m just saying! I know people who have had dogs and have had a lot of trouble with them, and I was just wondering how _much_ of the dog was really Mitch, or how much is an actual dog.”

 

“Well,” Auston starts slowly, turning to keep walking to his car. “I’ve had to walk him a lot, but he’s really good about bugging me when he needs to go. No accidents so far.”

 

“Oh,” Mo says. They’re almost to Auston’s car when he speaks up again. “Mitch has always had a really tiny bladder, hasn’t he?”

 

Auston has to laugh at that, and Mo’s grinning at him when he shoves his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, man,” he says.

 

“Good luck with the puppy!” Mo calls as he heads off, leaving Auston to his car, and Auston just shakes his head and heads home.

 

-

 

Auston’s dad is in the kitchen when he gets there, wearing pajamas and getting a bottle of water from the fridge. He raises his eyebrows at Auston as Auston grabs a Gatorade.

 

“You left the dog home alone, huh?”

 

Auston freezes. “Shit,” he says softly. “What’d he do?”

 

“We’ve got one less throw pillow on the couch.”

 

“That’s not too bad, huh?”

 

“I don’t know what else he got, when I got home I locked him in your room. G’night.” Brian claps Auston on the shoulder and leaves him in the kitchen, groaning.

 

Auston eases his bedroom door open slowly, expecting to see a war zone. It doesn’t look worse than his normal post-skate-pre-game war zone: a few too many clothes on the floor, a couple dirty towels on his desk chair. All his pillows look accounted for, at least.

 

No Mitch, though, not that he can see.

 

“Mitch?” Auston calls. No response. He walks into the room fully and closes the door behind him, calls Mitch’s name again. He checks under the bed first, looking for a pile of fluff, but no luck. He’s confused, a little -- his room’s not big enough for Mitch to _hide_ , really. He spins in a slow circle, keeping his eyes peeled, and that’s when he sees his closet door ajar.

 

“Oh, shit,” he says quietly. He pulls the door open all the way, and, yup, there’s Mitch curled up on the floor, the remains of at least 3 different pairs of shoes scattered around him. Mitch looks up sleepily when the light hits him.

 

“You little fucker,” Auston says, soft but fierce. Mitch gives him a look that Auston is 100% sure looks like a shit-eating grin on human Mitch’s face. Auston drops to the floor next to Mitch and reaches for his shoes.

 

“These are my favorite dress shoes, you absolute asshole,” Auston says, holding up a mangled pair. Mitch just stares at him. Auston stares him down.

 

“No dogs in the ACC,” he says, and Mitch makes a little _huff_ noise and settles his head back on his front paws. Auston only takes a little bit of pleasure in pulling the shoe out from under Mitch’s paw and making him move. It’s a pair of sneakers he doesn’t really wear anymore, and the 3rd pair, on the other side of Mitch, seems to be the dress shoes that pinch his toes, so at least Mitch didn’t really destroy any shoes Auston _really_ likes.

 

He is gonna miss those dress shoes, though.

 

He gathers together the remains of all his shoes and takes them to the trash in the kitchen. When he gets back to his room, Mitch is on his bed, looking sleepy but smug.

 

“You’re a dick,” Auston says. He shoves Mitch aside softly so he can climb onto the bed, still in his suit -- he’s fucking exhausted. Having your best friend turn into a dog is _exhausting_.

 

Mitch just sits at the end of the bed and stares at him.

 

Auston stares back, just for a minute.

 

Then he sighs. “C’mon, buddy,” and pats his pillow. Mitch happily trots up to the same spot he slept in last night and during their nap, and licks Auston’s cheek before lying down.

 

“Furry little shit,” Auston says fondly, closing his eyes. He’s gonna get up soon, he really will. He’s gonna let Mitch’s tail hit him a couple of times in the chest first, though.

 

-

 

Auston brings a ridiculous amount of extra stuff with him to the plane the next day. He’s never traveled with a puppy before and doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but there’s no way he’s leaving Mitch home during their roadie -- what if he turns back into a person today, or something, and then he’s just sitting at home twiddling his thumbs for 2 games for no reason. Even if he doesn’t, Auston’s not risking leaving dog Mitch home alone with his shoes for any amount of time ever again.

 

Marty practically tackles him when he gets on the plane, stealing Mitch’s leash and heading off somewhere. Auston lets him go, settles down in his normal seat next to Freddie. He can hear Mitch yipping and Marty giggling from where he is, so he leans his head back and closes his eyes, content to let everyone else worry about Mitch for a while.

 

It’s a short flight to Minnesota and Auston takes Mitch for a walk when they get to the hotel, while everyone else is getting their keys. Mitch is taking his goddamn time like always, sniffing around the back door, when Babs shows up.

 

“You two are rooming together,” he says, handing Auston a little envelope with two keys in it. “We figured since you were taking care of Marner that’d be fine.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Auston says. “I’ve got all his stuff, too, so it’s not a problem.”

 

“We won’t be able to get a second room if the, uh, situation happens to change,” he says. He looks down at Mitch, who’s given up on sniffing flowers and is sitting on his back legs, tongue out, while he looks back at Babs.

 

“Also not a problem,” Auston says. “We roomed together a few times last year, we can handle it.”

 

“Yeah, well. Let’s hope the situation changes soon, huh?” Babs claps Auston on the shoulder and gives a little wave to Mitch, which is somehow simultaneously the cutest and weirdest thing Auston’s ever seen, before turning and leaving.

 

Auston waits until he turns the corner to start laughing. Mitch barks back at him, that noise that sounds a little like Mitch’s human laugh, and Auston -- Auston is just really happy for a minute.

  
“C’mon, boy,” he says when he’s calmed down enough to speak normally. “Let’s go find our room.”

 

-

 

They have an afternoon skate scheduled, and Auston brings Mitch again. Since it’s a different arena, Auston kinda smuggles Mitch in, under his coat, but it doesn’t work _that_ well since Mitch keeps poking his head out of the hole Auston’s left so Mitch can breathe.

 

“You are so bad at being stealthy,” Auston mutters as they _finally_ round the last corner to the visitor’s locker room, and Mitch does this weird tiny growl barking thing, which Auston is pretty sure is his attempt at being quiet.

 

“Yeah, good job, buddy,” Auston says. He’s got one hand on Mitch’s tiny little dog body through his jacket. The fluffy hair on the top of Mitch’s head is tickling the bottom of Auston’s chin, so Auston is laughing a little as he enters the room -- _not_ giggling, he doesn’t giggle, no matter what actual giggly Willy likes to say -- and somehow the first person he locks eyes with is Mo, who grins at him and waggles his eyebrows.

 

“Having fun with Marns?” Mo asks, and Auston makes an annoyed noise and unzips his coat to let Mitch go running across the room, where he stops to greet everyone with licks and tail wags.

 

“His fur was tickling my chin,” Auston says with as much dignity as he can muster. It doesn’t help and he gets more than a few knowing looks that he does his best to ignore.

 

Mitch watches their skate from the bench again, and then almost everyone sticks around to play with him after, no one rushing off to hang out with families this time.

 

Auston sticks around the bench this time, letting everyone else play with Mitch, and yells, “Make sure you get him good and tuckered out,” when Brownie suggests a foot race. Mitch doesn’t beat anyone on skates, still slipping and sliding as he runs, and then someone gets the bright idea to have Mitch pull someone with his leash against Willy pulling someone else, and there’s some discussion about weights versus speed, and someone pulls out the coaches’ whiteboard to do equations, and then they end up doing a couple of different races anyway, “out of fairness.”

 

Mitch wins the first one -- although Auston sees Willy pull up short as they get to the opposite goal line, and feels a big dumb rush of emotion even as Willy drops his head and pretends to be sad about losing -- but he loses the next two, and when Marty drops his leash after they cross the goal line, Mitch turns and trots over to Auston on the bench, tongue out and panting, leash trailing after him.

 

Auston swings the door open and lets Mitch come right to his knees, where Auston leans over to pet him.

 

“Hey, boy,” he says softly. “Ready to get out of here?”

 

Mitch looks up at him, still panting, and wags his tail once, which Auston takes as confirmation.

 

“I think we’re gonna stay in tonight,” Auston says in the locker room later, after he’s changed into street clothes and everyone’s making dinner plans. “I think you guys wore Mitch out a little too well.”

 

Mitch looks up from where he’s curled on the floor in front of what would be his stall to look at all of them, and then puts his head back down.

 

“Poor boy,” Marty says in his dog voice, leaning over to muss up Mitch’s fur a little, and that starts a chain reaction of everyone coming over to pet Mitch and make fun of him for being tired, and then everyone heads their separate ways for dinner and Auston takes Mitch back to the hotel.

 

Auston orders room service and scoops out another cup of food into Mitch’s bowl, already set up in the corner of the room, and takes Mitch for a walk. Auston’s food gets to the room about five minutes after they get back, and he sets up on the extra bed -- for Mitch, if he ever turns back into a person -- with all his food and turns on some action movie playing on one of the HBOs. Mitch curls up next to him, head almost entirely on Auston’s thigh, and so Auston kind of distractedly reaches down to pet him every few minutes while he eats his food.

 

“Nice night, huh buddy?” Auston asks when he’s finished, digging one hand entirely into the fur on the back of Mitch’s neck. Mitch makes that little huffing sigh dogs do sometimes. Auston scritches behind Mitch’s ears for a second before settling his hand back on Mitch’s neck.

 

They watch the end of the movie in silence, though Auston thinks about making a couple of jokes like he normally would watching a movie with Mitch. It’s not the same without Mitch joking back with him, though, so he keeps quiet instead.

 

When the movie’s over, Mitch lets out a full body sigh and rolls over just enough to look Auston in the eyes. He looks sad.

 

“I know what you mean,” Auston says quietly. “I miss you, the real you, _so_ much.”

 

Mitch yips quietly. It even sounds sad.

 

“If you were here,” Auston starts, slow. “I mean, if you were back in your body, and we were both here, just like this.” He trails off. He’s been thinking about it for a couple of days, since Mitch-in-his-real-body has been gone. He thinks he knows what he wants to say, but it’s big. Momentous, really. And Auston’s not sure if this Mitch would even _understand_.

 

No, that’s not it.

 

He knows that this is real Mitch, just in a tiny fluffy puppy body. But he doesn’t know if Mitch would remember, after being turned back into human Mitch. It’s not really something Auston thinks he can say twice.

 

But he’s gotta say it. He really just has to.

 

“If it was like it was before, and we were just lying around watching a movie. I think I’d kiss you right now.”

 

Mitch, who’s been flicking his tail lazily back and forth for the last few minutes, stops. He cocks his head at Auston the best he can from where he’s sitting. Auston is pretty sure it’s the visual equivalent of saying “Huh?”

 

Auston sighs, digs a hand into Mitch’s fur again. It feels weird to not be touching Mitch when he’s talking about how he wants to kiss him.

 

Then again, it feels weirder to be touching dog Mitch and thinking about how much he wants to kiss human Mitch’s stupid face.

 

“I pretty much want to kiss you all the time,” he says. Puppy Mitch’s eyes still look like human Mitch’s eyes, at least. That helps. Auston’s just kind of pretending like he went overboard with the Santa beard, or something, and that’s what the white fuzz on his face is.

 

“I want to kiss your dumb mouth when you’re singing really loud, and only mostly because I want you to shut up.” Now that Auston has started saying this, it’s hard for him to stop. “I want to kiss your smile off your face when you’re chirping me about CoD. Every single time I see you wrinkle your nose at something, I wanna kiss it and see if I can make you wrinkle your nose at _me_ , too. I wanna kiss you all over, Mitch.”

 

Mitch has lifted his head off of Auston’s thigh at some point, Auston can’t remember when, but he’s got one front paw on it now, and he hasn’t stopped looking at Auston since he started talking.

 

“I like you a lot, and I can’t believe you’re a fucking _puppy_ right now so I can’t even _do_ something about it.” Auston groans and puts his face in his hands.

 

Mitch leans up and licks him, full on, on the cheek, and when Auston lowers his hands to look at him, Mitch just looks back expectantly.

 

“I’m not kissing you _now_ ,” he says, and Mitch _yips_ and licks Auston closer to his mouth. Auston pushes him away, but Mitch keeps jumping on him and licking anything he can reach, and Auston keeps trying to at least push Mitch out of his face, but mostly it’s just a lot of giggling and yipping and licking.

 

-

 

Auston wakes up the next morning exactly where he’d passed out the night before, starfished on his back on top of the covers on Mitch’s bed, still almost fully clothed.

 

His arm is hot, though, and feels trapped under a lot of warm, slightly sweaty skin, which is -- it’s pretty weird, since he went to sleep with puppy Mitch curled up in the crook of his arm.

 

Wait.

 

Auston’s eyes shoot open, and yup, there’s Mitch, a very naked, very human Mitch Marner, curled up as best he can be against the side of Auston’s body.

 

“Mitch!” Auston practically shouts, excited. Mitch whines a little and mumbles, “Not awake,” into the spot where his mouth is pressed against Auston’s shirt.

 

“ _Marns_ ,” Auston says exasperatedly, fondness leaking through. He tries pulling his arm out from under Mitch and uses his free arm to shake him.

 

“Mitch Marner, wake the fuck up.”

 

“Dogs don’t _have_ to get up early,” Mitch says, and tries to roll over, but Auston is _right there_ and Mitch is not as small as he thinks he is, and that’s how Mitch ends up on top of Auston, bodies pressing together all down their length.

 

Mitch’s eyes spring open in shock, as does his dumb mouth. Auston can’t help but grin at him.

 

“You’re not a dog anymore, idiot,” he says quietly, and Mitch makes this _noise_ and surges forward to _kiss Auston_ and --

 

It’d be great. It’d be _so_ great.

 

If he hadn’t just been a dog for half a week.

 

Auston laughs and ducks his head away from Mitch and says, “I wanna kiss you, I really do,” so Mitch doesn’t get all sad, or the wrong idea or anything.

 

“Then kiss me,” Mitch mutters, trying to lean in again. Auston holds him back with one hand.

 

“Dude. Your breath _reeks_.”

 

Mitch goes pale and shoots out of bed, sprinting for the bathroom. Auston laughs loud and hard.

 

“You’re an asshole, Matthews!” Mitch calls over the sound of running water.

 

“You ate my favorite dress shoes, you dick,” Auston calls back.

 

“I’m using your toothbrush,” Mitch says, muffled like he’s already got a mouthful of toothpaste, and Auston can’t help it, he laughs again.

 

“ _Such_ a fucking asshole,” he says, and that’s when Mitch appears in the bathroom doorway. He cocks one hip and leans against the doorjamb, grinning hugely around Auston’s toothbrush. He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair is a fucking mess, and Auston really fucking likes him.

 

“You like it,” Mitch says, taking the toothbrush out. His mouth is still full of toothpaste and he dribbles a little of it onto his chest before turning around to spit it out in the sink.

 

“Yeah, you’re _real_ smooth, Marns.” Auston smirks, but almost before he knows it he’s got a lapful of Mitch again.

 

Mitch rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up and kiss me, dick.”

 

So Auston does.

 

-

 

They’re practically giddy on the way downstairs to team breakfast. Mitch’s hair is still wet from the shower Auston made him take after they’d made out for a while and he’s wearing a pair of Auston’s sweatpants rolled up at the waist and one of his shirts because, while Auston had been smart enough to stop by Mitch’s place on the way to the airport to pick up a suit for him, just in case, he’d forgotten any other clothes.

 

“You’re just trying to get me naked,” Mitch had said when he’d found out. He’d been pulling on a pair of Auston’s boxer briefs -- “I can’t believe you even forgot underwear, you fucker” -- which fit him super weird.

 

“Definitely think you’d look better naked than in those,” Auston said, and then Mitch had said, “Just because we don’t all have your _massive thighs_ ,” and crawled onto the bed and then they’d made out for another fifteen minutes.

 

So now they’re kinda late for team breakfast, and Auston can’t stop smiling and Mitch can’t stop knocking his shoulder into Auston’s and grinning back. They both look like dumbasses when they actually make it to the room with the food, but at least it’s easy for Mitch to grin wider and fake nod when the team bursts into what Auston thinks is slightly sarcastic applause.

 

“You just had to spend _one_ night together to turn him back, huh?” Mo asks Auston quietly while they’re both watching Marty and Mitchy hug and pretend not to be crying.

 

Auston isn’t the kind of person who blushes, but he gets pretty damn close. “He’s been, like, sharing my pillow every night.”

 

Mo raises his eyebrows at him. “Really,” he says, flatly. Auston shrugs.

 

“I guess I’ve always wanted a dog,” he says, and Mo laughs and claps him on the back and goes over to get in line to hug Mitch.

 

-

 

Mitch _tears it up_ during the game, and Auston can feel himself playing better, too, just having Mitch to bump into on the bench and sing with during TV time-outs. The whole team plays better, actually, and they pretty much cream Minnesota, 6-2. They’re flying into Chicago after the game, have another game the next night, so no one really gets to celebrate, but the atmosphere on the plane is still a bubbling happy under all the quiet.

 

Mitch is being his usual social butterfly self, taking advantage of every single second of the short amount of time they can be out of their seats to hang out with as many people as he can, but when it’s time to sit down for landing he nudges Freddie awake and into another seat and plops down next to Auston.

 

“Do you think we can convince them to let us room together again?” Mitch asks quietly.

 

Auston laughs. “We get our own rooms, Marner,” he says.

 

“So sneak into mine,” Mitch says with a quick shrug. Auston presses his knee into Mitch’s. “We can’t do anything tonight, we’ve got a game tomorrow.”

 

“Who said anything about doing anything?” Mitch asks. He raises his eyebrows, tries his best to look innocent. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

 

Auston keeps laughing into his hand, trying to keep it quiet. Mitch smiles at him, because he’s always really seemed to like making Auston laugh.

 

“If you don’t shut the fuck up,” Mo says, leaning forward to talk to them through the gap in the seats between them, “I am going to tape both of you into your rooms tonight. Separately.”

 

Auston and Mitch look at Mo, and then each other.

 

“Dad’s mad,” Auston says, trying not to laugh, and then Mitch bursts out laughing, and Auston follows suit.

 

Mo sighs and leans back in his seat. “You two are goddamn annoying.”

 

“You know it,” is all Mitch says, grinning at Auston, who grins back and presses his knee into Mitch’s harder.

 

-

 

Mitch follows Auston into his room anyway, the key to his own room still in his hand. Auston doesn’t say anything, just lets Mitch sit down on a bed first and sits next to him, close enough to press their legs together. Mitch smiles at him, soft, and Auston involuntarily lets out a contented little sigh.

 

“I missed you,” he says. Mitch’s eyes light up, like he’s surprised and delighted, and he leans in to kiss Auston. The kiss is soft, but Mitch is pressing his whole body against Auston’s hard, like he’s trying to get Auston to lie down. Auston’s stronger, though, and he knows if they get horizontal and start making out Mitch’ll never leave, so he’s holding his ground.

 

If it means he gets the entirety of Mitch Marner pressed against him, well. That’s not exactly a bad problem to have.

 

Auston has to put his hand on Mitch’s thigh after a few minutes, trying to keep him from _climbing into Auston’s lap again_ (which is something they are one hundred percent going to explore at a different time, just not in the middle of a back-to-back) and then he remembers something and pulls away from Mitch, just enough to break the kiss.

 

Mitch tries to follow his mouth, and Auston chuckles and puts his other hand on Mitch’s chest.

 

“Hold up,” he says. “I just remembered something.”

 

Mitch whines, and for just a second he sounds so much like puppy Mitch that Auston is almost worried he’s back.

 

“Whatever it is, it’s not as important as making out.”

 

“Chill out, Marns,” Auston says, but he’s smiling, and Mitch smiles back. “It’s about Davo. And Strome.”

 

Mitch’s eyes get wide, and then his smile gets devious. “Do you think they had to do the same thing to get Stromer to change back?”

 

“Only one person we can ask,” Auston says, and Mitch reaches into Auston’s pocket for his phone -- Auston sucks in a sharp breath, and Mitch looks at him like he’s filing that away for later -- and dials Connor’s number, putting it on speakerphone.

 

“Hey,” Connor says when he answers. “I saw Mitch is back. Glad that worked out.”

 

“Are you in love with Stromer?” Mitch blurts, and Auston chokes a little on air because nobody said the word _love_ , did they?

 

But Connor is as calm and collected as he ever is, and says, matter-of-factly, “Yes.”

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Mitch says. “I gotta call him. Too bad I don’t have my _phone_ ,” and he softly punches Auston.

 

“Once again I say, you were a _dog,_ you asshole, I had more important things to worry about.”

 

“He forgot to bring me clothes,” Mitch says to the phone, and, oh right, Connor’s listening. Connor laughs.

 

“Luckily Stromer didn’t change back on our road trip, because I forgot that too.”

 

“ _Thank_ you,” Auston says. “It’s stressful when your best friend randomly becomes an animal!”

 

“It is,” Connor agrees.

 

Mitch shakes his head, laughing, but he’s also looking at Auston’s mouth, and Auston suddenly doesn’t want to be talking to Connor anymore.

 

“Anyway, thanks, Davo,” Auston says, keeping his eyes on Mitch. “We’ve gotta go now, but thanks for your help.”

 

“I’d say ‘anytime,’ but hopefully it won’t happen again,” Connor says.

 

“Yeah, hopefully,” Mitch says. “Say hi to Stromer for me,” and then, as Connor is responding, Mitch just hangs up on him, tosses Auston’s phone onto the bed, and kisses him, all in one move.

 

“You’re so smooth,” Auston says, laughing just enough so Mitch kisses his teeth awkwardly.

 

“Shut up,” Mitch says, and he grabs a handful of Auston’s hair and moves his head where he wants it, so Auston does as he’s told.

 

Mitch makes it back to his bed before curfew, but it’s a near thing.

 

-

 

Auston drives them home when they get back to Toronto. He has to, seeing as Mitch was a puppy the last time they were in town.

 

“You’re driving everywhere from now on,” Auston says tiredly after he forgets a turn to Mitch’s place, and Mitch grins at him.

 

“I’m really proud of you for not dying on all your early morning drives to the rink.”

 

“Well, I had a puppy at home I had to think about,” Auston says. Mitch laughs.

 

“Hey,” he says when Auston pulls up to his place. “Do you wanna come in? My mom’s still gone for a couple days.”

 

Auston takes a moment to look at Mitch. He’s wearing one of Auston’s shirts again, a slightly-too-big Team USA shirt he’d sighed loudly over while pulling on. He looks tired, like they all do after back-to-backs, but also content, and all Auston wants to do is find out if he’s as easy to sleep with as a person as he was as a dog.

 

“Yeah,” Auston says. “I’ll text my dad I’m staying over.”

 

The smile that lights up Mitch’s face is the brightest thing Auston’s ever seen.

 

“Good idea,” he says.

 

-

 

It is just as easy to sleep with Mitch the person as it was with Mitch the dog.

 

In fact, Auston would say it’s even better.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [LottieAnna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna), here is [a video of a dog sliding around an nhl rink](https://twitter.com/NBCSCapitals/status/846088479142531073?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nhl.com%2Fnews%2Fgolden-retriever-plays-fetch-at-capitals-game%2Fc-288117554), def the inspiration for puppy mitch doing the same!


End file.
